Mr Blaine
by exheab
Summary: Kurt and Blaine are adults and have never met. When Kurt enrolls his nephew, Ben, into school, he meets Mr Anderson, who he soon knows as Mr Blaine. This will be a very fluffy Klaine fic probably, possibly with a touch of Klangst.  Enjoy.  I do not own Glee or any of the characters.
1. Chapter 1

**Mr Blaine**

**Chapter 1**

_I got the inspiration for this from tumblr and randomly started writing. I hope you like it :)_

_For the phone part, Kurt is normal text, Blaine is bold and Blaine's thoughts are in italics._

_I do not own Glee or any of the characters._

I look up. A man is standing at my desk, his hand protectively on a little boy's shoulder.

"Hi, Mr… Anderson?" I nod. The boy is Ben, the new boy in my class.

"My name is Kurt Hummel. This is my… nephew, Ben; I believe he's in your class?"

I hesitate. Kurt is taller than me, slighter, with stylish brown hair and a gentle gaze and relaxed stance that immediately seems non-threatening and kind.

"Yes, he is." I look kindly at the boy, remembering his shy nature in class. "How can I help?"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Kurt's POV<em>**

"Daddy?" He breaks my chain of thought. Of the teacher. The muscular arms. The sweet face with sparkling eyes that gazed up at me from under the gently tousled dark curls. The grin, the absentminded tilt of his head when I said his name.

"Yes honey?" The boy jumps into my arms and I hold him close. "What's wrong?"

"Daddy, why did you tell Mr Blaine I was your nephew?" I redden slightly.

"Mr Blaine? I thought he was Mr Anderson?"

"Yes, he is." My son lisps slightly, "But he says we can call him Mr Blaine."

I grin at Ben. "Why does he say that?"

"He says his name is too long to say."

Bless 'Mr Blaine'. How sweet. I tickle his tummy, making him squirm around and giggle. I love the sound of Ben's giggle. It's cute and high pitched and goes on for ages. I would listen to it all day if I could.

"Right little man." I say, poking his tummy gently. "Beddy time."

"No!" he protests, scowling slightly.

"Don't do that, you'll get frown lines." I look at my son, who promptly scowls some more until I pick him up and carry him to his room in a fireman's lift.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Mr Blaine's POV<em>**

I sit, staring blankly at the TV. A show that I love is on, but I can't get into it. I keep thinking about him. Ben's uncle. But it's ridiculous, I bet he's got a girlfriend. Or a wife. Called… I don't know, Stephanie. I hate that woman, coming between me and Kurt.

Wait no. Back to reality. Kurt is not gay. He has a nephew called Ben. In my class. Therefore I cannot fantasise about him or him having a random imaginary wife. He's too young to have a wife. Surely?

* * *

><p><em><strong>Kurt's POV<strong>_

I carry Ben into his bedroom and plonk him down gently on his bed. He scrambles to the floor and hurries to fetch the book that he always wants me to read before bed. He passes it to me and dives under the covers. He pulls the duvet over his nose so only his eyes are showing. They peer up at me, waiting for me to start reading. I sit on a stool by the end of his bed and start reading.

"Daddy," he whines, "You have to do the voices!" It makes me laugh. He pulls his puppy dog face. I can't resist it.

"One day, a little girl named Goldilocks…"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Mr Blaine POV<em>**

**_A few days later_**

**"Hello, is that Mr Hummel?"**

"Uh, yes, who's calling please?"

**"It's Mr Anderson."**

"Oh, Mr Blaine!"

_So Ben told him about Mr Blaine. Oh dear. I sink slightly, then stand myself back up, feeling myself blushing. I can imagine my brother walking past and yelling, 'Makes you go weak at the knees does he?' Ugh. My brother, the marmite boy, you love him. Or you hate him. Luckily for him, I like marmite._

"Mr Blaine…? Are you still there?"

**"Oh, uh, yeah sorry… Line… Broke up… For a second there."**

_God… that sounded lame. I can imagine Stephanie at the other end of the line mouthing words to him 'Who is it?' and him answering 'Ben's teacher, the weird one I was telling you about. I don't know why he's calling, he's only my nephew, for god's sake…' Ugh. I feel slightly idiotic. Well, very..._

"Mr Blaine?"

_Is he going to keep calling me that?_

**"Yes, that would be me."** I say, hoping the tone sounds jovial, _when I just want to sink through the floor and pretend the phone call never happened._

**"I was just calling you about Ben."**

"Oh! Did something happen? Is he ok?"

**"He's fine, don't worry." **I reassure him.** "It's just that I, I mean, we, as in the school, um… With new students, we like to have the parent or guardian to have a teacher conference to see how they're settling in. I only have your contact details, so if you would like to tell Ben's parents, or come yourself…"**

_Blaine! What are you doing? You're a gibbering wreck! You're always so cool, calm, collected. Chill. Talk normally. I steady my breathing. I have no idea why I'm so nervous…_

"Is tomorrow evening ok?"

**"Perfect."**

"Ok, thank you, Mr Blaine. I will see you then."

_The phone clicks and then all I can hear is static. I sigh and place the phone back on its holder. That did not go well. I wish I hadn't told the children to call me Mr Blaine now…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Mr Blaine **

**Chapter 2**

_This is a bit random, but hey._

_In the texts, Rachel is in italics_

_I don't own Glee or any of the characters_

_I just checked the traffic stats for a joke and was blown away. So thanks guys, it makes my day to see people wanting to read the stuff I write :) x_

(1:49)

RACHEL.

(1:51)

_What's up? X_

(1:52)

I've just done something really stupid.

(1:53)

_**Sighs** I told you wearing that hat would make you look idiotic x_

(1:53)

No, like, really, really idiotic.

(1:54)

_What, did you wear clown shoes as well? X_

(1:55)

RACHEL! Not helping!

(1:56)

_Sorry. What's up? X_

(1:57)

I told Mr Anderson I was Ben's uncle.

(1:59)

_Ooh, Mr Blaine? Why did you tell him that? And why are you telling me this now? X_

(2:01)

**sigh** I was worried he would think badly of me. I'm still worried about people thinking badly about me because I'm gay…

(2:02)

_You're not ashamed are you? Of who you are, or your son? X_

(2:05)

No.

(2:07)

_Then just tell him he's your son! x_

(2:09)

I'm meeting him tomorrow night for a parent-teacher conference. **Cringes** Come with? Please?

(2:11)

_Is he as hot as you say he is? X_

(2:13)

Rachel! You're with Finn!

(2:15)

_Nothing wrong with window shopping. X_

(2:18)

**sighs** Yes. He is hot.

(2:19)

_What time does it start? X_

* * *

><p><strong><em>Kurt's POV<em>**

I walk into school and collect Ben, who bounces around and bombards me with random facts about his day.

Mr Blaine… I mean… Mr Anderson walks out and catches my eye.

"Tomorrow still ok?" he calls across the playground.

"Brilliant." I yell back, ushering Ben, who is madly waving at someone, out of the playground before anyone can see me blush.

Ben looks up at me innocently as we walk towards home. "Daddy, why have you gone all red?"

"I stayed in the sun too long Bennie." I look around shiftily.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"It's September."

_Blast._

"How did you know it's September? That's a very big word."

"Mr Blaine said it was."

_Blast._

* * *

><p>(3:45)<p>

He knows it's September.

(3:46)

_Who? X_

(3:47)

Ben.

(3:47)

_That is a problem why exactly? X_

(3:49)

Mr Blaine taught him.

(3:50)

_Naawwww. Cute x_

(3:51)

Ugh, shouldn't you be in rehearsal or something?

(3:53)

_Stop being grumpy :P Just because you like Mr Blaine… ;) x_

(3:54)

I disown you.

* * *

><p>(4:54)<p>

Is Finn baby-sitting tomorrow?

(5:01)

_Yes, why? x_

(5:03)

I'm not sure I trust my step-brother with my son…

(5:05)

_Oh lighten up, he's only ever set the kitchen on fire once. x_

(5.05)

_Twice._

(5:06)

_But that's nothing to do with anything. X_

(5:08)

I'm still not convinced.

(5:10)

_Stop being stroppy. And wear teal. X_

(5:11)

**sigh**


	3. Chapter 3

**Mr Blaine**

**Chapter 3**

_I do not own Glee or any or the characters._

_**Kurt's POV**  
><em>

"You look drop-dead gorgeous." Rachel looks me up and down. "Teal really works on you."

She pats the blue jacket and straightens the tie. She does up the button at the front, then undoes it. The does it up again. I bat her hand away.

"Finn. Ben needs to be in bed by 6 and we shouldn't be back much later. Food is cooked. Do not use the cooking appliances." I stare into Finn's face. "I mean it Hudson. No fires in my house, do you hear me?" He nods and trains his eyes on the floor.

"Right Bennie boy!" I scoop him up and cuddle him for a second. He tilts his head to the side and looks up at me. I tuck flatten a bit of his hair than perpetually sticks up from the other bits. After a few seconds it rebelliously springs back up again. I sigh and kiss him on the nose.

"You be good for Uncle Finn, ok?"

He nods shyly, biting his lip. I pass him over to my step-brother with a warning look. Rachel slips her arm into mine.

"Ready?"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Mr Blaine's POV<em>**

He walks – no, glides into the school with a pretty brunette on his arm. They are both wearing the same shade of blue. It must be Stephanie. Ugh. I knew it. He looks extremely confident, wearing a posh blue jacket and tie. Looking at the woman, I feel thoroughly underdressed. She is wearing the same colour as Kurt, but as a knee length dress accompanied with understated jewellery.

"Hi, Mr Hummel and?" I hold out my hand and Kurt shakes it gently, Rachel does the same but with a wide grin on her face. I notice a wedding ring on her finger as she shakes my hand.

_Damn._

"Rachel Hudson." So, not Stephanie, but close enough. And she must have kept her name, which seems odd, as Ben's surname is-

"So, Mr Blaine." Stephanie, no, not Stephanie, Rachel, turns to me. "How is Ben doing?"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Kurt's POV<em>**

At the end of our chat, I have learnt that Ben is doing well in school and enjoys music class, which makes me laugh. Rachel discreetly slinks away to 'look at Ben's work' and leaves me alone with the devilishly handsome Mr Blaine. He looks at me with those twinkling hazel eyes.

"So, Mr Hummel."

"Kurt, please."

"So, Kurt."

"So, Mr Blaine." He grinned.

"Ben told you about that?"

"Oh yes. He doesn't stop talking about you." I notice a slight tinge of pink around his cheeks when I say this. A smile creeps up onto my lips.

Suddenly his phone bleeps and he whips it out of his pocket and checks it.

"Oh damn, I'm sorry guys, I have a family emergency…" he says, shoving his phone back into his jeans. I suddenly feel uncomfortable and over-dressed. He leaps up from his chair and grabs his suitcase from behind his desk, shoving papers into it pell-mell and slamming the clasps shut. Rachel hurries over to me and we leave the school arm in arm. I wear disappointment like a shroud as the young teacher clatters past me in a sprint, calling apologies over his shoulder.

Rachel nudges my side. "There will be other times to tell him, don't worry." I sigh unhappily.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Finn's POV<em>**

"Ben, settle down now." I look around frantically, looking for the 5 year old who darts through my legs and hides behind the sofa, peeking mischievously over the top. Chocolate mousse with squirty cream was not a sensible idea for dessert.

_Kurt is going to kill me! _I think, catching the boy on the way past with an outstretched arm. I pull him tight and carry him up the stairs. Getting him to clean his teeth takes at least 6 minutes, until we turn it into the game of 'who has the cleanest teeth', which he wins, of course. Then I help him into his pyjamas, blue checks with red piping and an embroidered train on the front.

I tuck him into bed, after many protests and tantrums. "Shall I read you a story about trains, like your pyjamas?" He nods, only his eyes showing over the duvet. I smile and pick up a book.

"Thomas the tank engine…"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Kurt's POV<em>**

"I wonder what the emergency was…"

"Stop worrying about it Kurt."

"I wasn't!"

"Sure."

I clench my fists slightly. As much as I love my sister in-law, my best friend, she does drive me insane sometimes.

"We should get some coffee." She suggests, pointing at a coffee house a little further down the road. I check my watch. 6:07.

"Maybe we should get back…"

"Ugh! Kurt, your life has been boring since you broke up with Cameron. No, before that, since you got Ben. No, don't look like that Kurt, I know you love him to bits and I do too, but you have to admit, your social life has been terrible. Cameron lit it up for a bit but it's just fizzled out. So, be a little bit out there already!"

"I think you'll find," I say dryly, "I am very much _out_."

Rachel giggles, "You know what I mean. It's only coffee. And you love coffee."

"Is it on you?" She sighs,

"Did you spend all your money on Ben's latest designer labels?"

I turn to her and say with sincerity, "Yes."

"I expect nothing less." She replies with a smirk, pushing the coffee house door open.


	4. Chapter 4

**Mr Blaine**

**Chapter 4**

_So, who do you think Ben's mum is? A glee member or not? ;)_

_I admit this chapter is more of a filler, but hey :P Enjoy_

_I do not own Glee or any of the characters_

_**Kurt's POV**  
><em>

My alarm clock bleeps and I roll out of bed onto the floor. I pull myself up onto my stool and wake myself up with a vigorous skin cleansing and moisturising session. I gracefully descend downstairs and whip up a batter for pancakes. I put the pan onto the hob to heat and go back upstairs to Ben's room.

"Wakey wakey sleepy head!" Ben's face is hidden by the duvet, only his hair shows at the top. I pull it down and lift him out of bed. He groans as I wrap him in his dressing gown and help him downstairs. I sit him in his chair and start making pancakes.

I flip a pancake into the air and he giggles."Daddy," he asks, "What are we doing today?"

"Uncle Finn and Auntie Rachel and I are going to take you to soft play." He bounces around on his seat, beaming. "Settle down, you, and eat your pancakes."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Kurt's POV<strong>_

I sit in the parents' booth with Finn and Rachel, watching Ben nervously.

"Kurt." I turn my gaze away from Ben, who is playing with two of his friends from school, and look at the Finn and Rachel, who are holding hands over the table.

"Yeah?"

"I have two tickets to Wicked next week, but I can't go. I thought you might like them?" _There must be something important going on, Rachel never passes up a chance to see Wicked, even though she has seen it as many times as me, around 30._

"I'd love to, but I have nobody to go with." Then it clicks. "Oh no. No, no, no, no, NO. I am not asking Ben's _teacher_ to go and see Wicked with me. He still thinks I am Ben's uncle."

"Then it's a perfect time to tell him, isn't it?" Rachel persists.

"Oh, what do I say, Hey, Mr Blaine, I have two tickets to see Wicked this week, will you come with me? By the way, I'm gay and the boy I said was my nephew is actually my son, so it probably sounds like I'm lying but I'm not and-"

"Chill dude!" Finn interrupts. "You have had no life for over a year. If it's not this Mr Whatshisname, then find someone else, but you need someone to care for you once in a while, instead of the other way around."

I shrug and turn to look back at Ben. He's been my all and everything since he was born, but he doesn't fill the void a partner does.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mr Blaine's POV<strong>_

"Cooper!" I exclaim, looking at my older brother. "You're a pretty good driver! How did this happen?" He shifts slightly on the hospital bed to get more comfortable.

"Some idiot drove into me." I look at his face and raise an eyebrow. "Some idiot and I drove into each other. And a tree." I sigh and look at the red cast on his right calf.

"How long will that take to heal?" I ask, walking forward and prodding it gently.

"6 weeks." I think some things through in my head.

"That'll be 6 weeks of living with me then."

"What? Blaine, no! You can't do that! I'll just go back home." I look at him sceptically.

"Cooper, last time we went home, Dad asked about your job. And you said you were unemployed. And he threw a leg of pork at the wall. Then later, when he asked me if I had a girlfriend yet and I said I was currently going out with a guy, he basically told me to leave. So you're living with me, no arguments."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mr Blaine's POV<strong>_

I carry Cooper's belongings into the apartment.  
>"You're lucky that I live on the ground floor Coop, because the elevator is broken. Again."<p>

"Yikes Blaine," he says as he limps through the door to my small flat on crutches, "Even my flat is bigger than this."

"Teacher's pay." I say shortly, dumping his bags in my spare room which is, for once, clear of musical instruments, as I took them to school for music class.

I walk back to the kitchen where Cooper is stuffing his face with marmite sandwiches. Typical.

"Stop being a pig Coop." I say, throwing a pair of socks at his head. "Now tell me, why did she kick you out again?"

"She did NOT kick me out." I raise my eyebrows. "We're having a break."

"What happ-" I start to ask, but get cut off by the phone ringing. "We _are_ having this talk." I warn him before picking up the phone.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Rachel's POV<em>**

"Rachel… This is a really stupid idea. He's going to hate us." Finn protests.

"No he won't, he knows I get tickets to Broadway shows. He can't stay mad for long." I tell him, picking up the phone. "And anyway, when he falls into the arms of his Prince Charming he will have us to thank, won't he?" My husband doesn't look convinced. I ignore him and dial the number for the school.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mr Blaine's POV<strong>_

"**Hello, Mr Anderson speaking**"

"Oh, hi Mr Blaine"

_I lean against the wall. Why is she calling me? Especially the day after the horrendous parent-teacher conference. Then again, she probably is calling to ask why I had to leave so hurriedly. Ugh… I'd better fake my happy voice._

"**Hello, Stepha- Rachel isn't it? I'm sorry to have cut the meeting short last night, something came up" **I glare at Cooper as I say this and he has the decency to look away.

"Oh, no, that's absolutely fine. As it happens, I have a favour to ask you."

"**Oh?"** _I'm __intrigued, why would they need a favour from me?_

"Yes, you see, I have some spare Wicked tickets but I can't go and I was wondering if you would go with Kurt?"

_That may possibly be the weirdest thing I have been asked as a teacher, but I jump at the chance to spend time with Kurt._

"**Um, yes, I don't see why not…"**

"Fantastic."

The phone clicks off. I look at it for a second and put it back in its holder.

"What was that about?" asks Cooper nosily. I explain the situation to him.

After a thoughtful pause he says, "They're rather involved in the kid's life aren't they? As his aunt and uncle?" I nod slightly.

"Maybe they're his guardians?" I ask to nobody in particular. This time it is Cooper who raises his eyebrows, only I don't realise what he means by it. He pulls some weird faces sometimes.

"I think the woman fancies you." He says, chortling. I roll my eyes. This is a weird turn of events.

* * *

><p>(12:34)<p>

_Hey, guess what? x_

(12:35)

What…

(12:36)

_I hooked you up with Mr Blaine! X_

(12:37)

YOU DID WHAT?


	5. Chapter 5

**Mr Blaine**

**Chapter 5**

_Just to say, in this fic, Blaine did not go to Dalton, which is why they never met. Instead, Sebastian was the lead singer of the Warblers._

_In the phone scene, bold is Blaine, normal writing is Kurt and italics are the thoughts of Kurt._

_I've just checked my story stats. Wow. I officially love you guys :) x_

_I do not own Glee or any of its characters._

_**UPDATE** _

_I have added the name of the person who's point of view it is at the top, hopefully to clarify it all (Thanks for the feedback TerribleSpy - I hope this helps)_

_Please check out my profile, I have added a few notes to that rather than clogging my chapter up even more. Thank you :)_

_**Kurt's POV**  
><em>

_I can't believe she's done this. Why, oh dear god, why, has she set me up with him? It's going to be really awkward… This is stupid, I should just ring and say I'm sick, or… something's come up or… I don't know. I want to spend time with him, tell him I lied and hope he doesn't hate me. But I don't want to tell him this at a musical! Jeez! What was Rachel thinking? I am going to kill that woman. I will attack her with her brand new high heels._

I snap back to reality. I reluctantly hand Ben to the babysitter, kiss him goodnight and walk out into the bitter September evening. My phone rings. I pick up without looking at the caller ID.

"RACHEL. I AM GOING TO KILL YOU."

"**Oh, uh, sorry, um, I was just calling, uh…"**

_OH GOD. IT'S HIM, NOT RACHEL, MR BLAINE! DAMMIT! _

"Oh, sorry Mr Anders- Mr Blaine! I thought you were Rachel."

"**If it's a bad time…"**

"No, no, it's not, I'm sorry. Do go on."

"**Uh, ok… I was just calling to say I checked the website and it says tonight's show has been cancelled."**

_Phew! And relax. Don't sound too pleased not to have to see Wicked with him, but don't sound sad because you're not seeing him at all._

"Oh, ok."

_Ugh brain, is that the best you can do?_

"**But I was wondering, as we didn't finish the meeting, whether you would like to meet up for coffee?"**

"That is a great idea."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Mr Blaine's POV<em>**

I walk into the coffee shop and look around. He's not here yet so I sit at a table and order a drink. The waitress hands me a stylish mug of steaming coffee, not that I know what type it is. I take a sip and cough at the bitter taste. As the waitress walks away I empty several sachets of sugar into at and try again. A touch better. While I wait, I sip my coffee and sing a song under my breath.

"Candles." I hear Kurt from behind me and swivel round. "I'm impressed, I expected you to be more top 40." I blush slightly as he sits down with a mug in his hand.

"You know your music Mr Hummel."

"Call me Kurt, please. And I hope I do know my music, seeing as I am the glee director for Carmel High"

"Wow, Vocal Adrenaline? I've heard about them." I see Kurt in a new light.

"Yes, they're my glee club. When I was in glee club, I used to be against them. Vocal Adrenaline and the Warblers from Dalton Academy were the big shots, the ones to beat. Were you in glee club?"

"Me? Yes, I was." I took a sip from my mug. "Jeez, I really can't stand coffee."

Kurt laughs at me and looks into my mug. "How much sugar is in that?" I look away guiltily. He calls over the waitress and orders something behind his hand. She brings a small glass over, with a bowl of something that looks like honey. Kurt takes a spoonful of the golden sauce and drops it in, swirling it around with the spoon before pushing it across the table towards me. "Drink"

It is a suspicious yellow colour and it seems to be bubbling slightly. I pick up the tall glass and sceptically take as sip. The drink is hot and sweet, a gentle lemon flavour with a bit of fizz that makes it dance across my tongue.

"Wow, what is this?" I ask, feeling the hot drink slide smoothly down my throat, soothing it gently. Kurt taps the side of his nose. I start to gulp it down.

"Mr Blaine." Kurt says, making me chuckle into my drink. "Mr Blaine. I have something to tell you." I look up, but continue to gulp down the drink.

"I'm not Ben's uncle. I'm his father." Kurt's words make me cough and splutter as I accidentally inhale my drink. "I lied to you… because I'm gay. And I was worried you might think badly of me because of that. I'm sorry." He stands up from the table, looking distraught. I can't reply as I am still coughing on my drink. He runs out of the cafe.

"No, Kurt!" I call, coughing, chucking some money on the table and chasing after him. Freezing cold rain falls down in sheets, making it hard to see, making the ground extremely hard to get a grip on. I can see Kurt running ahead of me, his coat flapping wildly.

It's dark and he can't see the car approaching.

"KURT!" I scream hysterically.

He turns slightly, as if he has heard. Then I hear the screeching of brakes. "KURT!" I yell frantically, my feet pounding on the slippery pavement. "KURT!"

I can see him falling. I'm just a few strides away.

"KURT!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Mr Blaine **

**Chapter 6**

_I do not own Glee or any of its characters._

_**Kurt's POV**_

My feet scrabble on the pavement but gain no purchase. I can smell tyres burning and hear brakes being slammed on. The car is getting closer and closer. I can see the driver's terrified face grappling with the wheel, the car skidding. I can hear people shouting, yelling, calling out, but there's nothing I can do. I can hear footsteps behind me, somebody sprinting. Yelling my name over and over. Mr Blaine.

I'm dizzy, the world is spinning. My vision is tilting, sliding, wobbling and shaking. And the dark night is getting darker. And I realise I can barely see in front of my face. But I can still hear the yelling, echoing now, through my brain.

"KURT!"

* * *

><p>The world is very bright. Mr Blaine is sitting in a comfy armchair in the middle of the pure white surroundings. He smiles at me. It's such a wonderful smile. Then the armchair changes to a desk chair and he's surrounded by the children from his class. He smiles down at them and picks up a guitar from behind his desk that materialises as I notice it. He starts playing a tune and the children sing along. He has such a beautiful voice. I sit down behind the children and join in. Nobody seems to notice. But Mr Blaine smiles at me.<p>

After a while, I hear a noise so I stand up and turn around. In the distance I see Cameron, his spiky black hair carefully gelled (as always). He is standing by a door. A door that is standing in the middle of the white, connected to nothing. As I approach he opens it. I can see something else through the door, different to this place.

He does not speak. I will him to; I want him to. I want him to tell me the real reason we broke up. But he does not utter a word, only gently pushes me through and closes the door behind me.

I enter into a place not unlike before, however this room is full of white fog, wispy grey tendrils of cloud. These wisps of smoke transform into sheep. I look at them, puzzled. I touch one and they all transform into balloons which wrap around my arms and drag me up into the sky. They balloons suddenly pop, but I float down as light as a feather and land on a platform.

I can hear a constant beeping noise that I can't trace. I can't move. I'm lying on my back looking up and the white slowly fades into a greyish grid shape. Colours start to wash into the area until I can make out shapes of people. I can hear noises, like echoing speech, but I can't make out the words. Lights flash in my eyes. The noises become more distinct.

"Kurt? Wake up honey." I recognise the voice. Faint faces flit across my vision like fleeing fish swimming away from danger. The room smells of chemicals and antiseptic. I feel thin wires against my flesh and realise that there are tubes criss-crossing my body, some attached to my wrist, leading up to a drip, others to my nose, feeding me oxygen.

Things are still blobs and blots on my vision. A shape moves in front of my eyes and shines a light into my eyes, making me squint.

"Pupils equal and reactive."

_What does that even mean? Is this person checking out my pupils or something? Hi, I've just noticed how equal and reactive your pupils are. Worst pick up line ever..._

I blink a few times and the image brightens. I'm in a weird, uncomfortable bed, with a dull pain in my head. Groggily, I look around with my unfocused eyes. I make out one, two, three shapes on my left. There is one person on the other side, sitting right on the edge of my vision. I can hear another person speaking. I feel pressure on my hand and realise someone is holding it. I try to squeeze it but my hand seems heavy and unresponsive. I manage a half hearted squeeze, but it's more like an odd spasm. I catch a few words of the female voice talking, the one who checked out my eyes.  
>"He'll be waking up soon."<p>

* * *

><p>And after a while, I do. My eyes start to focus and my eyelids flutter. The room is bright and hurts my eyes a little, but I'm so glad that I can see things, however blotchy, that I don't care. Carole is the one holding my hand. She leans over and hugs me gently.<p>

I try to speak, managing to force out a few words then stop and launch into a fit of coughing. Rachel passes me a cup of water and I gulp it down greedily.

"Woah, slow down!" My dad takes the cup off me. I frown. He laughs at me. "Glad to see you're back to your usual self."

Then I notice Mr Blaine, sitting back in a chair. He was the figure at the edge of my vision, separated from the others.

"Mr Blaine!" I exclaim, then look at my family nervously. Dad laughs.

"Mr Blaine here saved your life." I look up, shocked. Blaine looks down at his knees.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mr Blaine's POV<strong>_

His feet scrabble on the pavement but gain no purchase. I can smell tyres burning and hear brakes being slammed on. The car is getting closer and closer. I can see the driver's terrified face grappling with the wheel, the car skidding. People are shouting, yelling, calling out, but there's nothing he or I can do. I am sprinting. Yelling his name over and over.

I see his foot sliding. His leg starts to give way and folds underneath him. The car clips his hip and throws him backwards. Then he is falling. I am so close. I yell as he gets nearer and nearer to the lamppost, like a puppet being flung through the air.

"KURT!"

Then he hits it with a sickening impact. A jagged piece of metal catches his head just above his right ear and tears the perfect pale skin, creating a long gash. Then I reach him, catching him just before he hits the ground, encompassing him in my arms. His eyes are already closing as I gently lie him on the wet ground and pull off my jacket and protect him from the rain with it.

"Kurt, stay with me. Wake up Kurt. Kurt, look at me…" My voice is wobbling.

I rip my shirt off, cursing my choice of clothing as the freezing September rain runs down my bare back, turning it icy cold within seconds, the wind buffeting my chest. I fold the shirt up roughly and press it against the cut on his head, blanching as the red of his blood seeps into the wet white shirt.

"Call 911!" I scream at no-one in particular. "Call 911!"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mr Blaine's POV<strong>_

"It's ok Kurt, we've called an ambulance. They're coming, you're going to be ok." I put my face close to his and whisper into his ear, "We're going to be ok. Hang in there, for me."

He clutches my hand, barely conscious. _I hope he understands._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mr Blaine's POV<strong>_

I sit in the ambulance with him, as the paramedics wrap his head up in a proper bandage and assess the rest of his injuries. The female paramedic turns to me and looks me up and down. I know I'm a mess. I have Kurt's blood on my hands and I am shivering, with only a small towel wrapped around my neck. My curls are floppy and wet and there are streaks of blood on my forehead where I had to push my hair out of my eyes. The paramedic wipes the blood off my face sympathetically. I feel like a child again, but I let her do it.

"He'll be fine." She tries to reassure me, but I keep my eye on the paramedic treating Kurt, in case anything goes wrong. My paramedic mops me up the best she can with limited resources and searches in the drawers around the ambulance. The siren is howling in my ears. We are flying through the streets, turning around corners so fast I'm amazed the ambulance doesn't tip over. The driver makes it look like child's play.

"Here," The paramedic finishes searching through drawers and throws me a rolled up bundle of cloth. "Put this on." She answers my questioning look with the word, "Scrubs."

I unroll the thin shirt and pull it over my head. Anything is much better than my bare chest. Kurt takes a shuddering breath and a machine he is connected to beeps ominously. I hold in the urge to jump over to him and check he's ok. Instead, I let the paramedic check him. He turns some dials and readjusts the oxygen mask on his face. Kurt's breathing returns to normal, but his eyes are closed. I breathe a small sigh of relief.

The brakes are eased on and we come to a stop. The second we are stationary, the doors are wrenched open. Hands reach in and grab the stretcher. The paramedics click the locks off of the stretcher and push it out of the ambulance. There are so many people: doctors, nurses and paramedics. I can hear the male paramedic telling the doctors his details and what happened. I clamber out of the back. My foot gets caught on the edge of the ambulance floor and I start to fall.

I am caught by a nurse who immediately feels my icy skin through the scrub top. "Come on, you need to be looked at." She tells me, holding my arm and trying to lead me away from Kurt.

"I need to be with him. I need to be with Kurt!" I protest, trying to pull away from her, but she has an iron grip, and the cold is sapping my strength and the shock is making me weak.

"We have talented doctors and nurses working on him. You were brilliant, but there's nothing you can do now. The best thing you can do is let us warm you up so you are there when he wakes up, ok?" I nod reluctantly at the nurse and take a parting glance at Kurt as he gets pushed through the doors into the hospital.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Kurt's POV<strong>_

"You would do that? For me?" I ask, looking at the man, shrunken by cold, with untamed, damp curls, wearing a scrub top instead of the shirt he wore to the coffee house. He has a slight red tinge to his forehead.

It feels like nobody else is in the room. He looks up from his knees with his beautiful hazel eyes that lock onto mine.

"Of course."

"DADDY!" A gleeful voice yells. Finn carries Ben into the room. He immediately fidgets and tries to get out from Finn's arms.

"B!" I exclaim, holding out my arms to him. Dad looks disapproving, eyeing the bandage wrapped around my head and the dressing on the deep cut on my hip and various bruises. I don't care. Finn places him onto the hospital bed next to me, and we cuddle up together, avoiding my painful injuries. We snuggle close and he falls asleep.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mr Blaine's POV<strong>_

I watch Kurt with his neph- no. Not nephew. His son. My thoughts go back to before the accident. He told me that Ben was his son. And that he was gay. And that he thought I might think badly of him. For being gay? For being a gay father? Seeing them curled up together, nobody could think badly of him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Mr Blaine – Chapter 7**

_Little bit of Anderson fluff anyone?_

_I do not own Glee._

_**Cooper's POV**_

He comes home clutching a red bundle of cloth in his hands and wearing a shirt he didn't leave the house in. At first I grin. Things obviously went well. Then I see his face. He dumps the bundle on the floor by the washing machine and stalks off to have a shower.

Once I hear the shower running I limp over and start shoving washing into the machine. I pick up the bundle and am about to stuff it in with the rest of the clothes when I realise it's Blaine's favourite shirt. Caked in blood.

I hurry to the bathroom and hammer on the door. It swings open. Blaine sits on the floor of the shower, his knees hunched up to his chin. The water pours down onto his curls and runs down his face.

"Blaine?" I ask tentatively. He looks up at me. "What happened?"

"There was… an accident." He stutters.

"Tell me everything." I say, as I shove my crutches to the floor, hobble into the shower and turn off the water and stare into my little brother's eyes.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Blaine's POV<strong>_

So, I tell him everything. And he just stays silent the whole way through. We sit there, not moving, me just saying anything that pops into my head. I'm not sure anything makes sense, but he seems to understand my ramblings. Then I collect my thoughts.

"I'm sure I would've been ok Coop. And I'm pretty sure his family didn't think I was freaking out. But one thing kept popping into my head. I kept being reminded of the – of what… happened.."

He looks into my eyes so deeply I swear he can see my thoughts.

"I couldn't" I choke. "I couldn't save her."

"Nobody could Blaine. Nobody. Not you. Not me. Not Dad. Not the doctors. Nobody." And suddenly I'm wrapped in his arms again. Just like that day, being held tight, protected in his arms.

"But you saved Kurt, Blaine. You saved Kurt."

A single tear runs down my cheek.

* * *

><p><em>I have actually written a flashback to 'what happened'. I will put it up if you guys want to read it. <em>

_I know these last few chapters have been a bit dramatic, so the next few chapters (at least) will be Klaine fluff :)_


	8. Chapter 8

**Mr Blaine**

**Chapter 8**

_Fluff, as promised :)_

_I do not own Glee_

_**Mr Blaine's POV**_

Finally, he appears back at school. I went back to work straight after the accident, back to the happy-clappy, fun Mr Blaine that everyone knows and loves. I turn to look at him.

He's wearing casual clothes. Well, I say casual. Kurt doesn't do casual. I've noticed that. It's better described as 'last-season'. He wears designer labels, but they're not the latest, I don't think. His hair is perfectly styled and the only proof of the accident is the thin bandage wrapped around his head, reaching down to his right ear and back up. He watches Ben playing with a friend down the other end of the playground.

I approach him slowly, somewhat afraid of his reaction.

"Hello, Mr Hummel." He smiles at me.

"Mr Blaine, you saved my life. You're allowed to call me Kurt."

"Well. Kurt. I think we can class our last outing as a flop-"

"Big time." He grins at me.

"Yes, big time." I agree with him. "So how about we try again? A coffee shop called the Lima Bean has just opened up." I notice his worried expression. "It's the other end of town to the other one." He seems unsure but he answers,

"Tomorrow night, at 5?" I nod agreement. He calls Ben and they walk away.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Kurt's POV<strong>_

_It'll be fine. _I tell myself, pushing the door to the Lima Bean and ordering a Grande non-fat mocha and the hot lemon drink I ordered for Blaine last week. I shudder when I think of last week. It feels like yesterday, for the want of a better cliché. As I take up a seat on a table for two the door opens and he walks through, cautiously.

"Mr Blaine!" I call, motioning for him to walk over to me. He does so and sits down on the chair opposite me. He takes a sip of the drink I ordered and looks me in the eyes.

_Wow. What beautiful eyes. Placed on such a dashing, unblemished face. I wonder if he moisturises? And those curls, are they natural or does he spend hours carefully making them flick in the wide array of directions that they do?_

"Wow," I say to him, "You look so deep into my eyes I swear you could read my thoughts." Then I realise that if he read my thoughts he would know I was thinking about him. And his eyes. And hair. I blush red.

"Kurt." He stops my train of thought."Kurt. You didn't let me answer what you said to me last time."

I blush even more red and feel like running off, not wanting to hear his gentle brush-off, but we both know where that got me last time, so I stay put.

"Listen Kurt. I don't tell this to many people. But I feel I can tell you. I'm gay."

For a minute it doesn't register. And then it jumps on me like alarm bells. He's gay. Mr Blaine is gay. And he's leaning forward over the table.

"Kurt. I have liked you since the day you walked into my classroom. And this may sound like a teen romance, but I really like you. I couldn't help noticing your smile. The way you stand. The way you talk. I've never done that with anyone else. Ever."

And he is leaning close to me, and I'm leaning back, till we're almost nose to nose.

And then he kisses me.


	9. Chapter 9

**Mr Blaine **

**Chapter 9**

_Just to say, I am amazed by the reaction Mr Blaine has got from you guys. I'm touched :L x_

_And, as always, I do not own Glee_

_**Mr Blaine's POV**_

"How was it, how was it?" He bounds around like an over-excited puppy, unusually fast for a person on crutches. You can tell he's had a lot of practice on them over the years.

"Did you kiiiiiiiss?" He asks, leaning in close to my face and staring into my eyes, his head tilted to the side. I push him away.

"Coop, stop acting like one of my students." I tell him. He ignores me and starts hop-dancing around the room, a kind of jilting, wobbly dance-walk that looks ridiculous and makes it hard to keep a straight face.

"You did, didn't you?" He asks triumphantly.

I walk off to get some food muttering 'immature' under my breath. He follows me through into the other room and starts mimicking my voice.

"FINE!" I yell at him. "I KISSED HIM! OKAY?"

Cooper wears that stupid knowing smile and seems to slide back into his normal composed self, slipping his hand through his hair until it stays back smartly like it normally does. That boy confuses me sometimes. He can be so crazy at times and yet so refined and composed at others. He's often bonkers with me, but withdraws into himself around Dad, or people at work, or when something bad has happened. Or when he's being smug, like now.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Kurt's POV<em>**

(9:34)

Oh my, God.

(9:35)

_It's Rachel, not God. Sorry to disappoint. x_

(9:36)

You know what I mean.

(9:37)

_Correct punctuation goes a long way Mr Hummel._

(9:38)

Oh god, Rach, will you just listen?

(9:39)

_*sighs* Fine. Soooooo. How did it it goooo? X_

(9:41)

You know what? I'm not going to tell you anymore.

(9:42)

_Fine. _

(9:43)

I WILL. I'M SORRY, I WILL. I WILL TELL YOU.

(9:45)

RACHEL.

(9:46)

RACHEL!

(9:47)

RAAAACHEL

(9:52)

Rachel. -.-

(9:56)

He kissed me.

(9:56)

_WHAT? OH MY GOD, TELL ME EVERYTHING._

* * *

><p><em><strong>3 weeks later<strong>_

_**Kurt's POV**_

He enters the classroom and looks at the desk, which is piled up with papers and books. He picks up a book, flicks through the pages, sniggers and places it back down. He lifts up a piece of paper and surveys it before placing it back down. His dark hair is well styled and he wears smart clothing.

"Who are you?" I ask, emerging from the supply cupboard, staring at the man rifling through Mr Blaine's belongings.

"I should ask you the same question." He says, staring at me with piercing blue eyes.

"Why were you rifling through Mr Blaine's things?"

"Mr Blaine, huh? I thought this was Mr Anderson's room?" I blush deep red. The man smiles knowingly and hobbles on the crutches I have only just noticed.

"Hi, you must be Kurt." He shakes my hand and I freak out just a little. _How does he know my name?_

"So Kurt," he says, swinging back on his crutches so he stands a little further away from me. "What are you doing in my little brother's supply closet?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mr Blaine's POV<strong>_

I hurry into my room and grab the papers on my desk. I swing the doors open and throw my papers onto the shelves. I turn around to go back to the desk when I stop in fright. My chair swivels around and reveals my brother.

"Well well, little brother." He looks like a villain from a James Bond spoof. "I think you'd better do some explaining."

The door opens and Kurt walks in and sits himself down in another chair at the desk, next to Cooper.

"I think so too." He says with a smug smile. My eyes widen and I stare at Kurt and Cooper. Both are completely deadpan.

"Kurt. Coop. How? What? Huh? How do you guys know each other?" _I'm so confused._

They burst out laughing at my expression.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Cooper's POV<strong>_

We all sit in the Lima Bean. I sit on the other side of the table to Kurt and Blaine. Kurt has coffee; Blaine seems to be drinking something yellowish that I find hard to believe isn't alcoholic. It would be if I was drinking it.

"I did not!" Blaine exclaims.

"He did." I look knowingly at Kurt.

"Shut up Cooper."

"You only say that because you know it's true."

"SHUT UP."

Kurt's phone bleeps and he checks his texts.

"Sorry guys, I have to go. Finn's looking after Ben. Major shampoo explosion. I dread him and Rachel having a child. Anyway, I will see _you _later."

He leans over Blaine and kisses him on the nose. Blaine grabs his collar and pulls him closer and kisses him on the lips.

"God guys, get a room." I complain. None of us notice the young man at the bar watching us, sipping his drink alone, in silence.


	10. Chapter 10

**Mr Blaine**

**Chapter 10**

_Only short, I know :/ Have just been bogged down with work :/ Will write more soon _

_I do not own Glee_

* * *

><p><strong><em>**UPDATED**<em>**

_I decided to add a bit on as I knew the ending was a bit awkward. I just wanted to get the ball rolling as I have been writing some other things too, although I am still writing the current stuff._

_(I do not own Glee)_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mr Blaine's POV<strong>_

"I'm sorry Mr Anderson," The principal shuffles some papers on the desk and tries to avoid eye contact. "There have been some complaints."

"What complaints?" I ask incredulously, racking my brains for anything that may have caused anyone to complain.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you, they're confidential." He answers, still not looking up.

"BULL!" I yell, slamming the flat of my hand on the desk. I gain a little satisfaction from that, as he starts slightly and I see the embarrassment flush his cheeks. My hand smarts but I shake it off.

"Mr Anderson!" He exclaims, standing up. "Please calm down!"

_Calm down. Calm down. How can I calm down? Those 'complaints' weren't about my teaching and you know it. Some rich, homophobic father has tucked a bill in the principal's top pocket to get me moved on. And I won't stand for it._

"I see. How much was it? An 'anonymous donation'? A couple of hundred? Thousand? More?" I question. He blushes again and I know I've hit the nail on the head. I nod. "Well. I'm glad you'll get a new playground for my troubles." I spit the words out angrily.

He looks up at me with steely resolve and he keeps his voice steady and calm, even though I can see the conflicting emotions in his eyes. "You're on probation, Mr Anderson."

I let the door slam on the way out.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Cooper's POV<strong>_

I hold the phone close to my ear and try and get my girlfriend to listen.

"Natasha, no, that's not fair. I do not act like a child! I don't! I don't. Don't. Do. HAH! Gotchya! No, Natasha, don't hang up. NATASHA. Tash." I sigh as I hear the click and immediately redial.

"Hello, this is Natasha Torez, please leave a message after the beep." There's static for a few seconds and I gear myself up for the message.

"Natasha, I'm sorry honey. Really, I am. It seems so cliché to say 'take me back', but… Ugh. Natasha, I didn't mean what I said. And I want to come home. But Blaine is making me stay until my leg's all healed up, so I'll be another week or two. Tash, sweetie, please ring me back… I love you…" I end the call and look down at my feet.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Kurt's POV<strong>_

(4:05)

Ugh, I feel ill.

(4:05)  
><em>WHAT'S WRONG? X<em>

(4:06)

Thudding headache, reaction to light and sound… -.-

(4:07)

_I told you not to drink that much ;)_

(4:07)

I was not drunk.

(4:08)

_Coffee withdrawal then? x _

(4:08)

No.

(4:15)

Wait… Is that you knocking on the door?

I hear the door open and Rachel's voice echoes up the hall. "I brought soup!" I groan and let my head fall back to the pillow. She peeks around the door wearing a bright red dress and clutching a thermos flask. She is far too bouncy for me in my current state.

"What kind of soup?" I ask, tiredly.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Cooper's POV<strong>_

I pause The Little Mermaid as the front door is nearly wrenched from its hinges by the force of the push. He is fuming, bright red under his dark curls which are corkscrewing all over the place. He enters the room and looks around. I peep out from the sofa.

"What's wrong B?" I ask, trying to gauge if he would throw something at me if I asked the wrong question. He starts pacing.

"You know Coop, I thought it was over. That now we were all adults they would've grown out of it and we could move on. But no, apparently not. Getting older does not seem to correlate with getting wiser. I thought that now we were sensible I could have an ACTUAL relationship. With no pointed fingers and whispers behind hands. It feels like I'm stuck in high school."

"What happened?" I ask, pulling myself up on the sofa.

"I was put on _probation. _PROBATION. I'm a good teacher, we're up to date on all our work, they all know how to write their names and can read a picture book! Hell, I've even taught them 1-10 in French! It's just because I like men. It's just because I'm gay and it's NOT FAIR." He pushes his fist into his hand.

I look at him closely. "You're not going to hit something are you? At least, don't hit me; you know I bruise like a peach." I look at, sheepish.

"No." Says Blaine, slowly calming down. "But what am I meant to do? Teaching is all I am, and that's the only reason Dad accepts me in his house. I have a job and a steady if low salary. It's what pays for this sorry excuse for an apartment. It's what Mum said I should do all along. That and sing… But that's in the past."

"Blaine, just because it's in the past doesn't mean it can't be your future. Mum died. But it doesn't mean all your hopes and dreams should go out the window! She wouldn't want that! And sure, parents have an impact on who we might turn out to be but even when they're gone our ideas and morals don't change! Mum taught us well, ok? For us to love what we do and push to be the best we can be. So if teaching or music is what you want to do, you need to fight your way there. But you can do this B, you really can."

He has tears in his eyes and I realise I do too. I wipe them away and put my 'manly' face on.

"Now come on, Under The Sea is about to start and I don't want to miss it." I say, seriously. He laughs and grabs me round the shoulders.

"Sometimes, I swear you are just a five year old in a grown man's body." He grins at me and presses the play button.

_The seaweed is always greener in somebody else's lake…_


	11. Chapter 11

**Mr Blaine**

**Chapter 11**

_I admit the last chapter was not my best, however I hope this picks up the slack. I really enjoyed writing this, I really hope you enjoy reading it :)_

_I do not own Glee_

_('BA' stands for Blaine Anderson, 'FW' stands for Fraser Westlake, an old school friend of Mr Blaine's)_

_**Mr Blaine's POV**_

I sneakily slide over to his kitchen calendar while he's getting ready for work. I dropped over on the pretence of dropping in some work. Kurt, being the doting father he is, asked if Ben needed to catch up on work he had missed after Ben caught Kurt's bug. As we mainly stuck to the boring syllabus as my job still hangs in the balance, I only need to drop off some sheets, but I use it as an excuse to stay for a while.

Kurt's still unusually groggy as he is recovering from his bug, so I have extra time to sneak over to his family planner that hangs against his perfectly toned, smartly painted walls. He has much more money than me, as shown by his classy taste and stylish dress, which embarrasses me slightly. I suppose not being disowned from your inheritance from your grandparents helps…

Anyway, I run my eyes down the dates until I find one that has a small '25' circled daintly in the corner, not even a quarter of the size of the box. Bingo. It's so small, inconspicuous, most people would look over it, ignore it, miss its meaning. I understand it and send a quick text to Rachel (I was given her number as one of Ben's emergency contacts), from which I get an immediate response, a confirmation of what I first thought. I kiss Kurt goodbye and hurry off to work, determined to keep my 'arrive 1 hour early' motto to prove a point to my stupid boss.

When I get to work, I obviously have extra time, so I slam out a lesson plan for the week and pull up my messenger. Luckily, just the person I need is online and I start tapping out a message.

**BA: **Fraser, I need to borrow your cabin next weekend.

_**FW:**__ Hey Blaine, nice to talk to you too_

**BA:** Yeah, yeah :L  
><em><br>__**FW:**__ No, 'Hi Frase, how you been?' No, 'can I please possibly maybe borrow your cabin next weekend because you're such a wonderful friend?'_

**BA: **Pah, as if you need it ;) And anyway, you owe me after that time I stopped you getting caught by Hawkins that time you broke into South dorm.

_**FW: **__True. And true. Man, that was great. 'Oh, sir, I just got up because I thought I heard some commotion in east building.' And off he trotted. You were the best prefect ever.  
><em>  
><strong>BA: <strong>Pah, I'm still amazed they let me be a prefect after Coop nearly blew up the Science block in his second year.

_**FW:**__ Yeah… You know there's still speculation it wasn't an accident?_

**BA: **They closed the case, he can't be charged any more.

_**FW:**__ You hope ;)_

**BA: ***coughs* So anyway, is that a deal?

_**FW:**_*sigh* _The key's under the mat.  
><em>  
><strong>BA: <strong>Thanks man.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Kurt's POV<strong>_

Rachel and Finn collected Ben yesterday to take him up to see Dad and Carole, so the house seems oddly empty. I walk to the door and pick up the wodge of letters on the doormat and place them on the kitchen table before making myself a large mug of coffee. I then settle into one of the chairs and start opening envelopes.

The first few cards are from distant relatives, interspersed with old teaching and broadway-going friends. There's a card from Sam and his new girlfriends, a card drawn in crayon which I almost think is drawn by Ben until I see Brittany's name at the bottom and a card from Mercedes with a little present. The present is a small photo of us in Glee club, several years back, not long before we graduated. I place it on the table and look at how young I was. It makes me chuckle. The frame has been written on carefully 'Happy 25th Birthday!" in her cursive handwriting. I miss my friend. I push sad memories from my mind and move on through the stack of envelopes.

There are a few more cards from various people, then a large package from Finn and Rachel which I daintily unwrap to reveal a smart shirt, a scarf and a waistcoat, all either colours that complement teal, or teal itself. My sister-in-law is extremely persistent. There's a present from Ben, a hand-drawn picture and a (teal) handkerchief that makes me suspect that Rachel had a hand in the buying of it. The picture is of me and Ben holding hands, by what seems to be our house surrounded by bunnies. I immediately stick it to the fridge with a magnet before turn to my present from Carole and Dad.

A recipe book labelled 'for Friday Night Dinners' in my Dad's untidy scrawl, a voucher for clothing and an oddly shaped present wrapped individually. I pull the wrapping off to reveal a director's chair stamped with the words 'Kurt Hummel' and below it in smaller letters 'Vocal Adrenaline Coach'. I plan to have it placed in the auditorium in Carmel High before you can do a vocal warm-up.

There are a few other bits and bobs and I put them into a neat pile to carry upstairs. I get dressed and start wandering around my home pointlessly when a blank envelope slides through my letter box. I pick it up and walk into my living room to open it.

On the front, in Blaine's best handwriting, is my name. It stands against the pristine white background of the textured paper. Inside there is again a perfect piece of paper, this time printed with the words, 'Greenway Park, 11:30'. I look at my watch. It will take me 15 minutes to get there and it's already 11:10. I pull on my coat and new scarf and jump into my car. I arrive at the park and walk in, taking in the beautiful, warm weather for a day in May.

Then I see the next envelope, stuck to a fence. I walk over to it and open it up. The message tells me to walk into the trees on the right hand side of the fountain. I look around until I find what must be 'the fountain', a small stone feature that I had first overlooked because a tall man stood imposingly behind it, commanding more attention than the dilapidated water feature did. I tuck the envelope into my pocket and walk into the woods.

In a tree, a few paces into the woods is another white envelope, telling me to take a right at a fork. I walk until I find the fork and do as it tells me, but start to get worried when I don't see any more envelopes. I'm about to double back when I see a camouflaged arrow pointing ahead. I follow it for about 20 steps before noticing a second, this time pointing to the left. This trail goes on for another 5-10 minutes until I reach a small clearing, hidden by trees but lit by the gentle sunlight that filters through the trees.

Blaine sits in the middle of the clearing, the sun catching his curls and his eyes, making them even more vibrant and breathtaking than normal. He hasn't noticed me yet, he seems so peaceful sitting there, soaking in the warmth from the sun that I just want to watch him. But I continue walking until I reach him and he smiles up at me, patting the ground to indicate where I should sit.

I follow his orders and sit down next to him. He leans over and kisses me ever so gently, running his fingers through my hair a little. We both pull away at the same time, sitting still and gazing into each other's eyes for a while. We stay in silence and Blaine rolls onto his side on the ground, looking up at the clouds through a gap in the leaves. I do the same and am enchanted by the sunlight landing on a pink bud, showing the many colours of the plant simply on one petal..

Blaine puts his hand on mine and we stay like that for about half an hour, watching the wind push clouds gently across the sky for us, watching it gently whisper through the leaves, making them wave and rustle and watching birds land on braches and sing sweetly to us.

He rolls to face me and shuffles closer. His nose is against mine and when he talks I can feel his breath lightly on my face.

"Isn't it beautiful? I found it one day while walking. I'm pretty sure we're the only two people who know it's here."

His kind gesture and willingness to show me something he has saved for me moves me, and I reply,

"It is, Mr Blaine." I draw out the 'Mr' and lean in to kiss him. The kiss is sweet, longer than usual, and we end up cuddling and kissing on the soft ground until an over-inquisitive magpie hops over to interrupt us. Blaine's tummy rumbles loudly and it occurs to me that he probably hasn't eaten at all today.

Blaine stands up and walks to a bush, behind which he has concealed a picnic basket. He brings it over and lays out a cloth and some cutlery. He pulls out two champagne flutes and a bottle. He fills each half full and hands me one before clinking them together. We each take a sip.

It's really high quality champagne and must've cost him a fortune. It bubbles on my tongue and relaxes some of the nerves I hadn't even realised had emerged. He brings out a sandwich which he halves and passes me a piece.

We spend the next 20 minutes laughing and talking while eating glorious food and drinking the small bottle of champagne. At the end Blaine places the hamper back behind the bush again. He notices the bud that I saw before, but does not pick it. Instead he looks around on the ground until he finds a flower that has already bloomed and fallen to the ground, still in perfect condition. He picks it up and places it in one of my button holes in my coat and kisses me on the nose.

He helps me up off the ground and dusts off a few blades of grass. He doesn't release my hand, but instead leads me through the woods onto a track. Although I do not know where I am, his firm, constant grip supports and calms me. He continues to lead me and I gladly follow him blindly through the foliage. Finally we emerge into a dusty patch of land where we find his car. He opens my door for me and I get in without question.

I am quite giggly which leads me to the explanation as to who drank more of the champagne than the other, which also explains why Blaine is still able to drive. He pulls out of the dusty land and winds his way until we reach a country road. We are driving for a long time and I get more nervous as I realise we are going away from home. I turn around in my seat and realise that there are several bags in the back, a few of which are mine.

Mr Blaine catches the look on my face and says "Relax, trust me."  
>And I admit, I do, so I settle in my seat until we arrive in a stunning grassy plain.<p>

In the middle is a large log cabin. There are a few barns dotted around, but the cabin has the feel of relaxing isolation. Not too far away for comfort, but far enough away for a strong feeling of independence. I suddenly realise this will be my first time without Ben in... Well. Since he was born, I suppose. I never went out for the weekend with Cameron. It's also my first overnight stay with Blaine.

Mr Blaine walks to my door and carries me out and to the porch. I protest and wriggle, but no matter what his height, he is very strong, and I'm in no mood to protest. He fishes a key from under the mat, which is very safe, you understand. He unlocks the door and pushes it open.  
>"After you." He says.<p>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Kurt's POV<strong>_

The log fire flickers and sends warmth floating out into the room. Blaine and I are leant on each other on the sofa in the living room. It's about 8:30pm, and the sky is almost completely black and the night is slowly getting colder.

"You realise," asks Mr Blaine. "That it has been exactly 4 months and 2 days since our first kiss?"

I think it through for a second and realise he is telling the truth. I'm touched that he remembers. "The 25th of January. Our first kiss…" I remember the kiss. The first time I have ever felt truly wanted, cared for, needed, by another man, properly.

"Do you remember what you did after?" I ask him, grinning at the memory.

"You kissed me back." His eyes twinkle. "I was expecting you to run away screaming, so for you to kiss back…"

"It _was_ amazing. But I wasn't meaning that." I say. He looks at me inquisitively. "And no, I didn't mean the skilful way your hand drifted from my hair to the back of my head to my jaw. Nor do I mean the way your kiss changed intensity to keep it interesting and romantic. Nor do I mean the way neither of us wanted to pull away so we just kept kissing until a waitress dropped off our drinks and even then you only stopped so you could pay. Or the way your knee knocked into mine and it sent shivers up my spine. No, I didn't mean that."

He blushes and it makes me smile. "I don't know…" he says, tilting his head to one side, like a cute little puppy.

"I mean the dance."

That stops him in his tracks. He looks at me, confused and embarrassed.

"What dance, I didn't… I mean… What?"

"You know, the little dance you did when you thought I wasn't looking. As I shut the front door after you walked me home. You did little jiggle with your hips and waved your arms about. Like this." I demonstrate and he drops his head into his hands. I can see he is blushing because the tips of his ears have gone bright pink.

"But I don't care." I say, kissing the top of his head. "I quite… enjoyed it actually…" His head pops up and his eyebrows are raised so much I can barely see them under his hair.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mr Blaine's POV<strong>_

"Kurt, I'm going to go to bed now, ok? I'll be in the room next to you if you need me."

I walk slowly upstairs and change into boxers and a Duck Tales t-shirt. I slide into bed and turn my light off, trying to get to sleep, but the thoughts whirl around my head so much I think I might become dizzy.

I lie, staring at the ceiling, and try to ignore the fact Kurt is in the next room to me and the feeling that my bed feels empty with just me in it. I understand that Kurt wants to take this slow. Both of us have been hurt in the past, so we're just keeping it low-key. That doesn't mean we don't love each other. I hear steps in the corridor and a figure stands shyly in the doorway.

"Um, Blaine?" Kurt bites his lip.

I roll over to look at him. "Yeah?"

"Well, I was wondering… Can I perhaps, uh… No, it's stupid. Never mind. Night." He starts to leave. I jump out of bed and grab his wrist.

"Wanna slip in with me?" I ask, pulling him gently back into the room. He smiles. We climb into bed together. Lying next to each other we don't touch, but share warmth. My hair stands on end. Kurt leans over to me and kisses me on the lips. I feel his silk pyjamas slide across my skin.  
>"Night night." He whispers. I kiss him back. We both fall asleep almost instantly.<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

**Mr Blaine – Chapter 12**

_Just a note to say Cooper will stay as this Cooper. I have seen 'Big Brother' and Glee Cooper doesn't seem to be as goofy and quirky as Mr Blaine's Cooper. But our Cooper will stay the same. :)_

_This is fluff, but emotional fluff, perhaps a little blangst, so I apologise. But enjoy nonetheless._

_Also, I apologise profusely for the belatedness of this, it has just taken me a while to sort out :)_

_**Mr Blaine's POV**_

I slowly wake up, keeping my eyes shut against the sunlight that filters through the curtains. My hands search for the warm body that lay next to me through the night, but I only find the duvet and sheets. I open my eyes and look around the room. It's empty, except for me. I grab a dressing gown, puzzled. I check the room next to mine, but Kurt's not there either.

I hurry to the stairs, anxiously, but my worry disappears as each bare foot touches a new, worn oak step, as the smell of cooking gets stronger. I walk towards the kitchen and the smell gets stronger, the scent of toast and sausages frying. My feet touch the cold tiles of the kitchen floor.

He stands by the stove. He's concentrating; you can see it by his stance. He's wearing a light and dark grey striped jacket over a pair of white jeans. I walk up to him and slide my hand into the back pocket of his jeans. He turns around to look at me and I kiss him gently, looking at him through sleepy eyes.

"Good morning, sleepy head." He says, pressing his forehead against mine. He places a hand up against my cheek and we stay, staring into each other's eyes until Kurt jumps back with a yelp.

"The beans are burning! How is it possible to burn BEANS?" he yells, frantically stirring the pots and pans.

I shrug, grinning and remove my hand from his pocket. "I don't know, but between me and Coop, we can burn water." He smacks my hand and I back away while he continues cooking.

We sit across from each other on the old wooden table, our plates laden with food. Within minutes however, my pile of food is almost fully demolished. Kurt looks at me, daintily balancing his mouthful of food on his fork.

"You have ketchup on your nose." He says, the skin by his eyes crinkling up as he smiles.

"Where?" I ask, leaning forwards over my nearly empty plate. Kurt leans forward too and pokes the end of my nose.

"There." He says, eating the food off his fork and placing it down.

"Where?" I repeat playfully.

He puts his nose up close to mine and goes cross-eyed staring at the little splodge of sauce. Then, before I can move, he leans in and kisses me. It must look weird, to anyone who might be looking, us both leaning over a table with our hands on the edge, precariously balancing while kissing. But no-one's looking; even if they were I wouldn't care. I put a hand up to place along his jaw and we both nearly faceplant into our food.

I wonder, if anyone has tried laughing hysterically while kissing, wobbling precariously over platefuls of food. Either way, it is ridiculously hard, and amusing at the same time, until we both end up laughing so much that we do, or rather I do, what has been threatening to happen since we started kissing, and land full force onto some slightly soggy eggy bread.

Kurt, who had managed to stop himself as he was sensible and kept his hands firmly on the table top, is laughing more than I have ever seen him. As I pull my head out of my breakfast,

_Wow, I never thought I'd be saying that…_

As I pull my head out of my breakfast, Kurt almost falls to the floor, tears running down his face.

"What?" I ask, trying to regain some dignity while removing a piece of bacon from a dangling curl.

"You. You ha-. You-" Kurt dissolves into giggles again before looking back at me and trying to keep a straight face.

He regains composure and walks up to me seductively. He gets extremely close to my face, his breath brushing across my cheekbone and whispers in my ear…

"You have baked beans in your eyebrows."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Blaine's POV<strong>_

After what will forever be called 'the breakfast incident', I shot off to have a shower, leaving Kurt downstairs to calm down while cleaning up the mess I've left.

I emerge smelling of whatever Fraser left in the shower, something with the essence of… _Pine needles? Ugh, I wish I'd used some of Kurt's 'exfoliating body scrub' or whatever the hell it was now…_

I dress in some clothes I carefully select from my overnight bag, a smart white shirt, a starry black bowtie, black trousers, a white V-neck sweater with blue and red piping around the neck and a heavy coat. I grab a backpack from the cupboard and hurry downstairs.

"You're going to need to change." I say to Kurt, who looks hurt until I continue. "Not that you don't look stunning and irresistible in that, it's just you'll need to wear dark clothing, stuff you won't mind getting dirty if you need to." He looks at me carefully.

"I don't do mud, Mr Blaine, if that's what you're planning." I don't even reply, just shepherd him off upstairs to get changed. I'm in the right mind to 'help him pick out his outfit', but I need to get ready for the trip.

Handmade sandwiches in a box. A couple of cans of drink and some biscuits. A few more pieces of clothing hidden in the bottom, some more treats to be unveiled throughout.

He steps into the kitchen wearing smart black trousers, a designer shirt and waistcoat and smart trainers. It's better than a suit jacket anyway, so I pass him the smaller backpack, strap on my guitar and grab his hand.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Kurt's POV<strong>_

"Haven't we already done the mysterious walk through the woods?" I whine at my boyfriend who is steadfastly walking ahead.

"Not long now." He replies without looking back.

_He's said that for the last half an hour! Ugh. I'm tired. It is a nice view though. Uh, of course I mean the scenery and landscape, not the muscled man, a few months younger than me who strides through the long grass while I get snagged and keep having to untangle myself… He's not even weighed down by the bags he's carrying!_

He swings his arms as he walks and his curls bounce slightly. For a fraction of a second he turns his head just far enough to see me in his peripheral vision and the corner of his mouth turns up just a little. He's not shaved this morning, and stubble dusts his chin.

Finally he stops and puts his hands over my eyes. I walk a little further, with his guidance, before we stop and he takes his hands away.

We stand on a small beach, leading to a lake of clear blue water. Resting on top of the water is an old wooden rowing boat, gently swaying in the breeze. Blaine pulls me over to it and says,

"Get in. And stay in, after all we wouldn't want your lovely clothes getting wet now, would we?" He helps me into the boat, stows the bags and guitar case away and pushes it off before taking a running leap over the water to land on the small wooden deck. The boat rocks precariously and Blaine laughs as I hold onto the sides for dear life. He kisses me and for a few minutes we stay like that, drifting off into the lake.

He finally breaks the kiss off and hauls the oars into position. He's about to strike off with the first oar when he rethinks and places them down again. He pulls off his sweater vest and places it in the bottom of the boat. Then he picks up the oars and rows hard for a few minutes without talking. I can see his muscles rippling through his shirt, and it's a rather… nice experience.

Blaine catches me looking and raises his triangular eyebrows. I ignore this and he continues to row out into the middle of the lake. He then pulls the oars back in and allows the boat to drift.

"So," he says, "Tell me more about you Kurt."

"There's nothing really to tell that you don't know." I say, skirting around a question I hope he won't ask.

"Okay, what about your family? You have Ben obviously, then Finn is your step-brother and his wife is Rachel? The woman who came to the parent's evening?"

"That's her. She was my best friend in Glee club, along with another girl called Mercedes, but I don't see her much anymore. Then there's Carol, Finn's mum, who married my dad, Burt. You've not met them yet." I pause. "You will though, if you want to."

He looks touched at my gesture. "Your mum?" He asks, tentatively.

"She died. I was 6 or 8, I'm not really sure… Which seems… Horrible, doesn't it? Not knowing the year? Not knowing how? Only knowing that she did and she's not coming back? Only knowing that I lost my mum when I was a child, only remembering little things, because when you're that age you don't think about it. You don't hold onto memories. But I remember Friday night dinners. And how she made the best Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches. And…"

I look over at Blaine. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. I wasn't expecting a man who stands so tall normally, to be sitting, hunched in the boat, his eyes reddened around the edges.

"Blaine?" I almost whisper. No answer. I move over to sit next to him. I rest my chin on his shoulder until he lifts his head up and starts to speak.

"A car crash. We were singing. All of us, me, Cooper, Mum and Dad. I'd forgotten my dad used to sing. Maybe he was singing because he'd had a few too many down at the pub, I don't know. "

The boat rocks a bit. I put my feet out to steady myself. Blaine is staring off into the blue sky.

"Then Dad's hand slips a bit on the wheel and the car slides. For a second we all stop singing. Then he regains control and we all laugh. How silly of us to think anything could go wrong. Dad turns around in his seat to check we're all ok. None of us see the truck."

His breath shudders and the boat does too, the ripples spreading on the water, the sunlight dancing on the waves the boat created. He picks up the oars again and starts rowing, still talking, quietly as he heaves the oars across the clear pool.

"We felt the impact. God, we felt the impact. The shudders. The shattering glass; the metal tearing. A scream? I… I can't remember. But. A scream. I think. And then. Silence. Confusion. The world swings away from me. I try to move my head and my vision cartwheels."

I'm facing Blaine now. He's different to how he normally is. We normally skirt around family. Now I see why.

"Then sirens. Sweet relief, sirens, help. We're safe. But strange hands, unfamiliar hands, reach in and pull me out of the wreckage. My vision is still blurry, someone flashes a light in my eyes. More teams of people run towards the car, what's left of it. I try to run too, but I'm held back from behind me. The person pulls me down to sit me on the tarmac and they sit behind me, holding me still and tight."

We're reaching some sort of island now, in the middle of the lake. There's a jetty sticking out from the island, and Blaine propels the boat towards it.

"And I hear the person speak and realise it's Cooper, whispering into my ear 'it'll be ok', just as the first flame licks round what used to be the bonnet of the car."

I swallow but it gets caught in my throat. Blaine lays down the oars and wipes away a stray tear. He stands up in the boat and I'm worried for his safety. We're still a few metres away from the jetty and the water is still deep. He pulls off his bowtie and drops it in the bottom of the boat. His shirt soon follows. As do his trousers. He stands in the boat in a pair of swimming shorts. Without warning, he dives off the side of the boat and disappears into the water.

"Blaine!" I yell as the boat shakes and threatens to dump me in the water too. Then I see him through the clear liquid, swimming like an otter, until he touches the bottom and shoots upwards until he reaches the surface. He looks happy again, paddling in the water to stay afloat. I lean down to him and he throws his arms around my neck and kisses me.

I try to put my emotions into the kiss. I want it to say 'I understand'. And from the way Blaine leans against me and presses into the kiss I think he knows. We kiss until the boat nearly capsizes as he leans on the side, and then Blaine grabs a rope and tows me in to the island.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Blaine's POV<strong>_

"Our talk didn't go as planned before, did it?" I ask Kurt, who lies next me on the beach. He links his hand into mine and stares up at the clouds through his sunglasses.

"No," he says, "But I know you better now. And you know me."

"That's true." I say, squeezing his hand back.

"So, you play guitar and sing?" He asks, after a silent pause.

"Uh, yeah, I do…" I reply.

"Want to give me a taster?"

_I swear he just winked…_

I hesitate slightly, almost out of shock. "Ok, um, sure…"

I search through my internal jukebox of songs as I walk to get the guitar until I find one I think he'll like.

_Even though I was blind before,_

_I've realised there is so much more,_

_And it was always deep down in the core of me,_

_I know it now._

_Even though it seems too much to take,_

_There's a feeling I can't seem to shake,_

_I feel like I'm reading all the signs,_

'_Cause I know that I'm coming around_

I dance around with the guitar slung around my neck, swiftly changing chords as I hop around on the sandy beach, watching my boyfriend grin at me from the extra coat I brought, using it as a rug so he doesn't get grains of sand in his clothes. I can't help but beam at the sight of him.

_I thought I wanted someone as perfect as could be_

_When what I needed was the one,_

_Who was perfect for me._

I wink at him and he leaps up from the coat to dance around on the beach with me. He certainly has a unique dancing style, much more graceful than my bouncing jig.

_Even though it used to seem so wrong,_

_I've taken you for granted far too long,_

_I'm falling right into the denouement,_

_And now, I'm breaking ground._

_Even though I felt it from the start,_

_It's only now we're beating with one heart,_

_I'm sure that now is the time_

'_Cause I know that I'm…_

It breaks into a brief instrumental and I stare up at the clouds for a minute. The sky is slowly dimming already.

_The sun is starting to shine_

'_Cause I know that I'm_

_I'm coming around._

__I fall back onto the sand, laughing. The guitar clunks heavily against my ribs and winds me slightly, making my laugh wheeze like an old man's, which only makes me laugh more.


	13. Chapter 13

**Mr Blaine**

**Chapter 13**

_I am so sorry that I haven't updated in a while… I should be writing a lot more from now on :)_

_I hope you enjoyed the last chapter – I hope you will enjoy this one too :)_

_**Kurt's POV**_

"Ooh, how was it?" Cooper asks Mr Blaine, as we come through the door. They disappear into another room in his flat as my phone buzzes.

(4:14)

_HOW WAS IT?_

(4:14)

Hi Rachel.

(4:14)

_WELL?_

(4:15)

No 'how are you'?

(4:15)

_How are you? AND HOW WAS IT? On your 'magical mystery' weekend?_

(4:16)

Sigh… IT WAS AMAZING!

(4:16)

_Ehehehehehehehe… ;)_

(4:17)

Oh god… -.-

(4:18)

_I bet ;)_

(4:19)

Why, Rachel, why. Keep your hands OFF. You have my step-brother to gawk at.

(4:20)

_Killjoy -.-_

Mr Blaine and Cooper emerge from the other room, Cooper looks smug and Mr Blaine's ears have gone red at the tips. A smile sneaks its way onto my lips. Blaine disappears again, looking fairly embarrassed.

"Cooper…" I say, hesitantly. He swings round to look at me.

"Yes?" He replies, looking slightly worried by my expression.

"Cooper. When… Blaine and I… we went to an island by boat. And we were talking about… Stuff. Emotional stuff. While we were in the boat. And Blaine got rather upset. And then he suddenly stripped off."

Cooper smirks and I glare at him.

"Not like that. But he got really upset and dived into the water. It was odd, even for him." A light bulb seems to have twinkled on in Cooper's head.

"Oh, that? Yeah, he calms himself down by swimming. Swimming and boxing. When he was younger, if he had a problem the first places to look were the gym and the pool. Don't worry Kurt, it's just his way."

I smile, relieved. "It was just a bit sudden, that's all."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Kurt's POV<strong>_

"DADDY!"

A small bundle launches itself towards me and my heart leaps. I haven't realised how much I've missed my son. I pick him up and cuddle him close. Rachel stands back, tears in her eyes. I look at him as he squirms and buries himself in my scarf. I note the blue and cream striped jumper, red trousers and shoes with cartoon pirate ships on them. His hair is all over the place and he looks like he's been wearing face paint at some point. I sigh.

"Did Grandpa Burt dress you this morning?" I ask him. He nods vigorously. I shake my head, amused. He never did have any dress sense.

"He misses you. They want you to come see them soon." Rachel says, kissing my cheek.

"I miss him too, I've just been so busy… And with them moving… It's been hard to go and see them." I think Ben's fallen asleep on my shoulder.

"Want to come over for a coffee?" I ask.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mr Blaine's POV<strong>_

_**FW: **__So?_

**BA: **So what?

_**FW: **__You know what._

**BA: **It was good. Thanks for letting me use your cabin.

_**FW: **__Good? GOOD? Did you do what you had told me you were going to do?_

**BA: **Yes…

_**FW: **__Did you go to the island?_

**BA: **Yes…

_**FW: **__Did you sing?_

**BA: **Yes…

_**FW: **__HOW IS HE NOT FALLING AT YOUR FEET?_

**BA: **Well, I…

_**FW: **__And did you ask him?_

**BA: **Uh… No. Not yet.

_**FW: **__I give up._

_**FW has logged off**_

**BA: **What? I.. uh… What just happened?

**BA has logged off**


	14. Chapter 14

**Mr Blaine**

**Chapter 14**

_I'm sorry I haven't written in a while, hopefully I should have some more free time soon so I can write some more._

**Rachel's POV**

I wrap my hands around the delicate white cup and let my fingers soak up the warmth of the coffee. Kurt comes back into the room after depositing Ben on the sofa in front of the television. As he sweeps back into the room and delicately sits down he tilts his head slightly, like a puppy, and I can't help but understand why Mr Blaine is so struck on him. He readjusts his hair to make sure it's still perfect and then leans forward, staring deep into my eyes.

"What's happened?" He asks, his voice soft and gentle.

I fiddle with the sleeves of my jacket and avoid his piercing gaze, cradling the cup in my hands. I can't bring myself to talk, so I take a gulp of coffee, which scalds my tongue. I curse under my breath and wrap my fingers back around the cup.

"What's wrong Rachel?" He's persistent, I know from experience, but nonetheless I try to convince him that there's nothing to talk about.

"Nothing, nothing's wrong. Why would you say that?" I counter. Meanwhile the voice in my head seems to have split into two, the devil and the angel are battling to the death up there, and my conscience is screaming, yelling, and battering his hands against the insides of my skull bellowing 'TELL HIM'.

I try to avoid his gaze.

"Rachel. You're dressed you did like the first year in Glee club. You're wearing a woollen jumper with a poodle on, for god sakes, there is obviously something wrong." He pulls his irresistible puppy dog eyes. "I know you. We tell each other everything. What's wrong?"

My defences dent. Then crack. That crack spreads out into a giant fissure, and the truth comes spilling out in torrents, as if someone has broken the wall of a reservoir and the water is billowing out.

"I cheated on Finn." I say abruptly, and it seems to crack through the tension in the room like a bullwhip. Kurt sits in shocked silence, and the only sound is the jovial music issuing from the television set in the other room.

"What?" Kurt manages to utter, his eyes wide, his eyebrows tilted. Confusion, hurt and disbelief cross his face. The guilt that has been wracking me for months, the guilt that I hoped would abate once I told Kurt, seems to gnaw at me even more. I feel like I've not only betrayed Finn but Kurt too.

"I… I cheated on Finn." I stutter. And then it all seems to gush out. "Finn was away on a 'guy's night' a couple of months ago, and I got a text from a friend, asking me to meet them at a bar. So I turn up and have a couple drinks, and then my friend leaves, saying something about an emergency back home. I decide to stay, not wanting to go back to an empty house, and have a few more drinks. And then this guy at the bar starts chatting me up and… well." I see Kurt's expression.

"Look, Kurt. Please understand, this wasn't planned, I was drunk, I didn't mean for it to happen. Things in our marriage have been rocky from… Well, from the start, I suppose."

Kurt stands up and walks away for a moment, and then turns back around, staring at me from his tall height. He makes wild gestures with his hands, like he does whenever he gets upset or angry.

"So you're telling me that because you and Finn had an argument you cheated on him?" His voice is raised by a fraction, enough to convey his anger but not so much that Ben senses what's wrong.

"NO!" I gasp, "No, Kurt, it's not like that. Ok? Finn and I… We married too young. I was leaving to go to NYADA, with you, he was going off to the army, or some pool cleaning business, or whatever, and… My dads were right Kurt. You were right Kurt. I'm sorry…"

Kurt breathes in deeply and then looks at me, very steadily, in the eye. I try not to break his gaze but tears are trickling from my eyes, making them red and puffy, and I have to squint slightly to see clearly.

"Have you done it since? Cheated?" He asks, his words striking blows that I hoped I could avoid, even though I deserve them.

"No!" I yelp, indignant.

"Have you told him?"

"No." I have the decency to hang my head. "Not yet."

Kurt takes a deep breath again and says very quietly, "I think… For now… You should leave."

I nod, as the tears start to stream from my eyes. I walk to the door and it is shut behind me. I lean against the wall and cry with giant sobs that shake my whole body. I don't notice the peep-hole on the door swing open, nor do I see the eye that drips tears onto his porcelain skin. We both weep because we both know that with my actions, not only have I hurt my husband, but I've betrayed my best friend.

* * *

><p><strong>Kurt's POV<strong>

I pick up the phone and tap in the number I have memorised with shaking hands. I listen to the dialling tone and try to tone down my sobs.

"**Hello, Blaine Anderson speaking."**

Just his voice calms me down; it's gentle and smooth, and kind. I find I can't speak; I'm not sure what to say. A giant sob escapes me.

"**Kurt? Kurt, is that you? Are you ok? What's happened?"**

I cough.

"I… I um…"

"**Are you hurt?" **He asks, panicked.

"No, it's just I…"

But I want to say yes, it hurts. It hurts so much that I finally had thought it was a good idea for them to be married, Finn was so happy; Rachel seemed content, always busy, but always making time for me and her nephew. And I feel betrayed and it _hurts._

"**I'm coming over. I'll see you in 10 minutes, okay Kurt? 10 minutes."**

The phone clicks and I know he's hung up. I wipe away my tears as much as possible and pop my head round the door to check on Ben. He's fallen asleep; obviously exhausted from playing football or something stupid that could get him hurt with Dad. I miss Dad.

I lean down and pick my son up. He squirms in his sleep and I smile. His fair hair falls across his forehead and I brush it away. I cuddle him close, knowing that he is one of the only sturdy things in my life. He's so soft, my little son, a little piece of me so carefree and happy. I never want him to grow up. I want to just hold him in my arms forever and protect him from the cruel outside world.

I remember when I first held him. A newborn, so small, so tiny. A little pinkish bundle placed in the arms of a completely clueless father, unsure of what to do or to say, confused as to why, but completely concrete on one fact. I loved him more than anything else in the world. The little wriggling arms, the miniscule fingers and trembling toes. The disproportionately loud wailing that ensued as I stared wide-eyed at the baby I held. His exhausted mother, smiling at me. The nurses and doctors laughing at my pale, shocked face, a young man, barely more than a boy, holding his child for the first time.

I can remember it all.

I carry him upstairs, taking each carpeted step slowly so as not to wake him. A single tear meanders down my face as I place him in his bed fully dressed, because I can't bear to wake him up to make him change into his pyjamas. He'd refuse to wear them at this time in the early afternoon anyway.

The doorbell rings. I hurry downstairs and open the door, to find Mr Blaine standing on my doorstep, laden down with plastic bags. I usher him inside, smiling.

"I brought coffee," He says, with a charming smile, offering up two coffee cups. I kiss him on the cheek and take him into the kitchen.

"One grande non-fat mocha and a medium drip." He gestures. "We always talk over coffee, don't we? I also brought chocolate, peaches, 3 DVDs and some wine, red, I think, I'm not sure what it is really, I kind of just pulled it off the shelf in a hurry. Oh, and I also brought some tissues and _some_ sort of posh tart… I think it has some sort of exotic fruit in it…"

As he talks he lays it all down on the table and looks up at me with a twinkle in his eye. I move towards him instinctively and wrap myself around him, tucking my nose into the groove between his neck and his collarbone. I breathe in his familiar masculine scent and I feel like Blaine is the only other strong, concrete figure in my life. He wraps his arms around me too, slightly delayed, as if surprised by my sudden movement. I move back slightly, pressing my nose up to his and staring into his deep, knowing eyes.

"It's perfect." I whisper, moving my hand up to his jaw and touching our lips together delicately. It's like sweet surrender, relief from all my problems, and I find myself leaning into it, pressing my lips against his more assuredly. I slide my fingers up to rest in the groove at the base of his neck, where his hair is fine and downy.

After several minutes, I pull back slowly and look into Mr Blaine's eyes. I wrap my arms around his neck and touch our foreheads together. He is smiling at me, his eyes twinkling. I release him and he turns to the table.

"Go and sit down on the sofa." He says. I oblige, switching the TV off the children's programme that I accidentally left on when I took Ben upstairs. Blaine enters, holding two glasses of wine, with a bar of chocolate and the DVDs under his arms. He places a DVD in the DVD player and settles down on the sofa next to me. I cuddle up to him as he passes me a glass of wine. The title sequence starts and I look at him, wide eyed.

"The Notebook?" I ask, staring into his eyes. He nods.

"I know it's a tear-jerker, but," He whips a packet of tissues out of his pocket with a flourish. "We have tissues, and I'm here to cry on. Deal?"

"Deal." I whisper, placing my wine down on a wooden coaster on the side table and lying up against him, with my head on his chest. He places his arms protectively around me as the music starts to play. Once I'm settled, he kisses my head and holds me close.


	15. Chapter 15

**Mr Blaine**

** Chapter 15**

_A shorter chapter this time._

_I keep forgetting my disclaimer, although it is in my story description. Either way, here it is:_

_I do not own Glee or any of its characters._

**Ben's POV**

Daddy's upset. I don't know why. I don't like it when Daddy is upset. Mr Blaine came over and made him happy again. I like Mr Blaine. He makes Daddy happy. I think he loves Daddy.

I think Daddy loves him too.

* * *

><p><strong>Kurt's POV<strong>

"Maybe you think I overreacted a little. Maybe I did. But you have to understand a few things." I say to Blaine, when he carefully probes into my problems. The film has finished, in fact we've watched two others as well, and somehow the hours have floated away until it's become dark outside.

I can see the stars through the window; we haven't moved to draw the curtains. We're resting, chatting, relaxing, content with being in each other's company. I'm still tucked up against his muscular body and have no intention of moving.

"Firstly, I was in the closet for all my time at McKinley. I wasn't happy. I was bullied, slushied, pushed into lockers and thrown into dumpsters. I was never respected. I was a nobody other than a piñata to the thick-headed football players. I had no-one like you, Blaine. No-one to help me understand, to look after me, to make me feel _loved. _Of course I had Dad, and eventually Carole and Finn, but they didn't know what it felt like." I pause, biting my lip.

"Glee club was my only solace. The sacred heaven amongst the god-forsaken halls I barely dared to tread. I met people like me there, people who cared for me. I met Rachel there. For a while we fought, scrapping like cats over solos and fighting over dress-sense and who was the biggest 'diva'. But we became close friends, inseparable, in fact. We told each other everything. And she ended up engaged to my step-brother at the end of our time at McKinley and I thought it was a bad idea."

I shuffle along so that my head was lies more comfortably across Blaine's chest.

"But she had found love, there was no denying it. And who was I to be cynical just because I was being held down, forced not to acknowledge who I was? Who I wanted to be? So I was the best man at their wedding and I wept more than Rachel herself. Everything was going right. I don't know what happened."

I can feel tears forming at the corners of my eyes again, and my voice starts to catch in my throat. I sniff very unattractively and hope Blaine doesn't notice.

"I went to NYADA to study with Rachel. After some deliberation we decided to share a flat, and got on like a house on fire. And occasionally accidentally set the flat on fire… But that's another story. I started to open up there, to be, for the first time in my life, honest about who I was. Who I am now. I wouldn't have become who I am today if it wasn't for Rachel. And when I dropped out of NYADA early in my second year, she was so supportive. She helped me. I trusted her. Wholeheartedly."

"And now you feel betrayed." He half asks, half states, slowly sliding a soothing hand down to hold mine, then lifting it up and leaning our intertwined hands together over my heart.

"I… I almost feel as if, as if… As if she's broken my heart too, not just Finn's." I stutter, feeling incredibly foolish.

"Maybe…" he whispers, moving down the sofa a little so that he is facing me. "I should kiss it better."

Slowly, gently, he removes his hand from mine and unhurriedly unties the scarf from around my neck. As he smoothly undoes the top few buttons of my shirt I feel his hand brush the skin below my collarbones. He pulls my shirt back, leans over the chest above my heart and kisses the warm patch where his hands have just been.

Warmth spreads from that place, remedying my sore heart with kisses like sweet medicine. He kisses me on the lips and I stroke his face.

"I had no-one like you Blaine. I was alone. I was scared." I whisper. He hushes me by placing a soft finger on my lips.

"I'm not scared anymore."


	16. Chapter 16

**Mr Blaine**

**Chapter 16**

_I'm sorry it's been so long, but here's a little something that should make you forgive me?_

_(You might want to reread Chapter 15, but it's up to you :) )_

_I do not own Glee or any of the characters._

* * *

><p><strong>Mr Blaine's POV<strong>

A dark grey colour has been skilfully applied to the two opposite walls, with a lighter, contrasting colour painted on the others. Brightly coloured pictures have been hung up in appropriate places around the room, some of them depicting Kurt when he was younger, possibly 16 or 17, surrounded by cheery, eager eyed teenagers wearing some sort of team uniform, others showing him and Rachel in various attires, ages and locations, including a series of photo booth strips featuring them wearing novelty New York merchandise. A particularly amusing print of them wearing green foam Statue of Liberty hats sits on the table next to the bed, nestled behind a fairly garish alarm clock and a picture of a new-born baby's foot, next to a small blue placard that reads 'Benjamin Hummel'.

In fact, the majority of the pictures feature Ben in some shape or form, as can be expected of a house belonging to such a doting father. It is hard to walk around the house without finding a picture of Kurt cuddling a small bundle of blankets looking ashen, bewildered but filled with pure joy, or carrying an older Ben on his shoulders or somehow featuring the father and son grinning into the lens.

I notice the half-silence. The relative quiet is almost complemented by the melodic noises of the room. A car pulls out somewhere down the road and someone's front door is shut quietly. I notice Kurt's breathing, deep and relaxed as he dreams. My eyes rove slowly around the room again.

The carpet is cream, and the items of clothing strewn across it seem so out of place in the tidy room. I roll over slightly in the bed and look through my long, dark eyelashes at the person in the bed beside me. His hair, normally fashioned into neat peaks at the front are ruffled and out of place, pointing in all directions in a way that I can only describe as adorable. I slowly pull back the covers and silently get out of bed. I check my watch, which had been carefully deposited on the bedside table before strapping it back around my wrist.

I locate my clothes and pull them on, look disparagingly at my refection in the mirror, run my hands through my hair and then go to exit the room. I turn before I do, and smile at the lump under the duvet. I can't help it, but I blow a kiss before walking down the corridor, shaking my head at my own dorky stupidity.

I chastise myself internally._ Blaine, he's asleep, he can't tell that you did that. He's going to think you've left him and he's going to hate you._

I pop my head around Ben's door, suddenly hit with the realisation that nobody put him to bed, that he was left playing while we talked. He must have woken from his nap and started playing, before simply falling asleep again. I am struck down with guilt, especially when my eyes search for his form, but at first do not focus on him. Finally, in the corner of the room I see him, his head down, arms stretched over his over-sized train set that litters the floor wherever you put your foot down. I can hear his tiny little snores from the doorway. I tiptoe in, pushing away the worst of the debris on the floor, and pick him up. Fortunately, he stays fast asleep. I can tell by his deep breathing that he's been asleep for several hours, possibly before his bedtime, and probably hadn't realised anything unusual was happening.

Probably hadn't realised anything so _unequivocally perfect_ was happening. The creation of a new and wonderful part of my relationship with Kurt was blossoming, the acknowledgement of what we are to each other.

I shake my head of these thoughts and tuck Ben into bed. He shuffles a little, and makes a cute little noise before sinking back into a deep sleep. I slip out of his room again, and head downstairs as quietly as possible. I retrieve some belongings from various rooms, my phone and keys. I notice I have several missed calls from Cooper and then a text simply saying 'OH! You'll be back late then, little brother' with some sort of little raised eyebrows emoticon that makes me roll my eyes. I pen a quick note to Kurt, feeling that it falls short of some sort of grand gesture that I should leave, but I have to get home.

I leave the house, locking the door and posting the key back through the letterbox, before hopping into my car and driving away.

I unlock my door and barely make it into the kitchen when Cooper appears, brandishing a toothbrush, wearing nothing but boxers, his hair completely out of place. He looks so ridiculous that I break down into peals of laughter and clutch at a cupboard door for support.

"Is that meant to be threatening?" I ask, regaining my composure.

"I thought you were a burglar!" He exclaims, waving the toothbrush around vigorously to somehow accentuate his point.

"Fat lot of use you'd be, Coop." I say, shoving the kettle under the tap and filling it. Cooper pauses and looks down at his attire.

"Well, I could seduce him, I suppose, I mean, look at me." He thrusts his hips forward and places a hand behind his head. "Paint me like one of your French girls, Jack." He says, theatrically.

"Oh dear god, Coop." I collapse again, nearly dropping the kettle in the process. "I thought you're meant to be the sane one? The sensible older brother?"

"Nah," he dismisses, "Anyway… Talking of seducing…" He raises his eyebrows in a spectacularly good impression of the emoticon.

I ignore his comment, flick the kettle on and sit down at the table. He sits across from me, holding that annoying expression. I continue avoiding his gaze and finish arranging some papers I had left on the table, getting them in an order for work. Once finished, I pour myself a cup of tea and try to leave the room. Infuriatingly, Cooper stands in the doorway, using his height to his advantage.

"Sooooooo?" He questions.

I use the chance to duck under one of his arms and retire to my room. Just as I shut my bedroom door I catch his glance and feel an incriminating blush creeping up my cheeks and resting on the tip of my ears, not quite hidden by my restless, ungelled curls.

"You did, didn't you!" He explodes, bouncing around the hallway.

I shut my door firmly, cursing under my breath, heading to bed with a scalded tongue and a renewed feeling of self-confidence. An absentminded grin sneaks onto my lips, and I fall asleep almost instantly.


End file.
